Steps
by terrified
Summary: A one-shot. It took many steps to get Sherlock to realise what he had almost lost, and what has really mattered all this time.


_**A/N:** It's been too long since I'd written Sherlolly. This one-shot combines some of my favourite phrases and moments. Thank you to all the wonderful Sherlollians who have been so positive and positively lovely to one another. Thank you for keeping one another going. You've all certainly helped me keep going. xx_

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 **Steps**

They were faint, but Molly could hear it. It had been going on for about ten minutes. Within those ten minutes, she had stolen to the side of the window a few times, peeking carefully at the pavement below. She would smirk, but remain quiet and stay as inconspicuous as possible. Eventually, when the faint footsteps below turned to clearer, heavier ones up the stairs that led to her flat, Molly closed her book and simply waited.

It surprised her to hear the sound of keys, and not the sound of her lock being picked. The knob rotated and the dark-haired detective stepped solemnly in. There was a certain air of carefulness around him, but it only served to amuse her. She hid the smirk on her face as she watched him wipe his feet, look around the flat, then approach her with soft, slow steps.

"Afternoon… Molly," he began.  
"Afternoon," she replied, nodding.  
"I happened to be…around and I thought I'd—"  
"Oscillation." Molly remarked, interrupting him sharply.

Sherlock paused and blinked. A small frown etched itself on his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry?" he asked quietly.  
"Oscillation on the pavement." she continued calmly.

Apart from continuing to stare at her, Sherlock had no other response.

"Always means there's a love affair." she said, smiling briefly at him.  
"I came up with that." he remarked.  
"I know. You mentioned it in your best man's speech. I _was_ at the wedding too, you know."  
"I know."

His chin dropped slightly, as did his gaze. He remained standing, with his hands dug deep into his pockets.

"You saw?" he asked, finally.  
"I heard." she answered.  
"Ah." he said with a nod.

The detective pointed to an armchair just by the corner of the sofa where Molly was seated. She nodded and allowed him to take a seat. He removed his gloves and placed them neatly on her little coffee table. It was the first time she had seen his hands since he had stepped into her flat.

"If you'd observed the oscillation — _my_ oscillation, then I think you know what I've come to ask," he said, lightly drumming his fingertips against each other.  
"I do." answered Molly quietly. "But why the pacing? What was troubling you?"  
"I wanted to be sure…before I asked," said Sherlock, "I just wanted to know for sure."

Molly smiled and sat forward, her knees now almost touching his.

"Here," she said, stretching both hands forward. She had her palms down, flipped them up, then turned them back down again. There was a small hint of a smile on Sherlock's lips, but Molly saw him hold it back. It made her want to laugh, but she too held that back.

"No ring," he said.  
"No ring." she echoed.  
"You've not just kept it away, have you? Because of work or something, or—"  
"Sherlock," Molly interrupted. A little chuckle escaped her this time.  
"Yes?"  
"There is _no_ ring." she repeated. "It's been given back. And that's that."

Sherlock leant back into his armchair, then sat up again. He reached forward and took Molly's hands, enjoying both the cool touch of her hands in his, as well as the clear absence of her engagement ring. Never had a single object bothered Sherlock more in his life. He was very glad it was gone.

"I guess it's safe to ask then," he said, with a little smile.  
"I think so too," said Molly, gently weaving her fingers through his.  
"Molly," he asked, looking right up at her.  
"Yes?" she said, returning his gaze with bright, smiling eyes.

He smiled. It was a sort of shy, half-grin. It amused him now, how silly this whole operation had been. How had he allowed the process of getting here become so convoluted? Had he been a little more sensible, the logical thing was to have done this way sooner.

Nevertheless, despite the steps it took to get here, he was glad he made it eventually.

"Would you like to have coffee?" he asked.

Molly answered by wrapping her arms around Sherlock as she kissed him gently on the lips. She laughed gently against his skin, and it made his heart quite want to burst.

He was _very_ glad he had made it.

 **END**


End file.
